Carter's Alternate Universe
by ColHogan
Summary: While on a mission,Carter,Kinch and Newkirk run into a German patrol.Carter is wounded and hits his head.When he regains consciousness,he finds things at Stalag 13 and his friends are not as he left them.This is my first attempt at comedy. Three chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This was a short story which popped into my head while watching The Reluctant Target. This is my first attempt at comedy. Hope you like it. I do not own any part of Hogan's Heroes or it's characters. But I do own the DVD set and enjoy watching them._

**Carter's Alternate Universe**

**Chapter 1  
**

An excited grin appeared on Andrew Carter's face as he set the timer on the explosives he, Kinch, and Newkirk had planted under the bridge London had ordered them to blow up. According to their orders, this bridge was used by the Germans to transport ammunition, weapons and other things to their troops at the front, and London wanted it destroyed. So, Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior POW officer, and head of the Hammelburg branch of the underground, code name Papa Bear, had issued the orders to Kinch, Carter and Newkirk to go out after evening roll call, set the charges and timers, and return to camp. It was a simple enough mission. After all, Hogan had told them with a grin, what could possibly go wrong?

As he set the last of his timers, Carter heard a rustling sound in the bushes behind him. Picking up his pistol from the ground and gripping it tightly, Carter looked around, expecting any minute to see a German patrol appear with weapons pointed his way. Instead, he relaxed when he saw it was Newkirk and Kinch.

"Carter, hurry up will you," said Newkirk in a low voice. "Me and Kinch saw a Kraut patrol headin' this way.

"All done," Carter explained getting to his feet. He followed the others as they, keeping low, silently made their way back in the direction of Stalag 13. They heard the sounds of the patrol heading in the opposite direction and felt they could get away without being detected. But everybody knows the best laid plans….

Looking over his shoulder while keeping up with the others, Carter suddenly tripped and fell, his pistol going off. That was when the excited voices of the patrol was heard, and they were coming towards them!

Helping Carter to his feet, Newkirk mumbled something unintelligible as the three men started running, firing at the patrol who, even though they couldn't see them, could hear them. Shots were fired in their direction as well. Suddenly Carter cried out as a bullet tore into the back of his shoulder. He stumbled and fell, striking his head on the hard ground.

* * *

Carter moaned as he struggled to open his eyes. His head and shoulder both hurt a lot. He felt someone sit down beside him.

"LeBeau? Can you hear me?" a voice asked.

"Uhhhhhh…." the young Sergeant moaned as he touched his forehead and felt the bandage on the side of his forehead. His shoulder felt as if it were on fire.

"LeBeau, can you hear me?" the voice repeated. "Can you at least open your eyes and look at me?"

"Yes, sir," Carter moaned. Though his vision was a bit fuzzy, he faintly made out a man next to him wearing a brown leather bomber jacket and an American officer's cap. Thank God, Carter thought, Colonel Hogan is here. "Hi, Colonel…" he said with closed eyes.

"LeBeau, thank God you're okay."

_Wait a minute, _Carter told himself suddenly. _That voice. That's not the Colonel's. Is it? And why is he calling me LeBeau? It was then that Carter realized his own voice had a French accent. _Shaking his head with closed eyes Carter slowly slid himself with help into a sitting position. He pinched the bridge of his nose hoping to clear all the cobwebs. Apparently Newkirk and Kinch had somehow got him back to camp and they had escaped from that Kraut patrol. Opening his eyes, Carter faced his commanding officer, and immediately his jaw dropped.

Seated beside him on the bed with his crush cap worn slightly tilted to the side and his brown leather bomber jacket, unzipped was… Colonel Wilhelm Klink?

"Colonel Klink? What are you doing wearing Colonel Hogan's cap and jacket?"

Klink studied the young sergeant. "LeBeau, don't you recognize me? I'm Colonel Hogan."

"You're Colonel Hogan?" Carter asked suspiciously. "Okay. If you're Colonel Hogan then where's Kommandant Klink? Where's Kinch and Newkirk?"

"The Kommandant was still in his office last I checked. Kinch and Newkirk got you back here after the three of you blew that bridge. But you were wounded when you didn't get far enough away when the bridge blew. You injured your shoulder and hit your head when you fell. But Sergeant Wilson took care of everything and says you should be fine in a few days."

"Hey, mate, glad to to see you awake. You had us ruddy scared you did."

Carter looked around expecting to see the Englander Peter Newkirk. Instead, he saw James Kinchloe standing nearby looking at him with a grin. "How are you, mate?" Looking at Kinch's arm, Carter saw the Chevron insignia of a RAF Corporal.

"Kinch? How come you're speaking English? I mean British? And how come you're a corporal? You're a sergeant."

Kinch/Newkirk looked at Hogan/Klink. "Gov'nor, I think me mate LeBeau's gone bloody crackers. Louie, you know ruddy well I'm a corporal same as you."

"What d'ya mean same as me? I'm Tech Sergeant Andrew Carter. You're Staff Sergeant James Kinchloe, and…" Carter looked over at Klink/Hogan. "You're Colonel Wilhelm Klink, Kommandant of Stalag 13."

Hogan/Klink and Kinch/Newkirk exchanged concerned looks. They figured LeBeau must have struck his head harder than they thought.

"Well, well, well. Looks who's awake," another familiar voice said. Looking in the direction of the voice Carter recognized his best friend Corporal Peter Newkirk. Except, this Newkirk was wearing the insignia of a Staff Sergeant, and he was speaking perfect American English.

"Newkirk! Boy, am I glad to see you, buddy! What's going on 'round here. Nobody's whom they're suppose to be. How could you be a Sergeant? You're a Corporal with the RAF."

Newkirk/Kinch looked at the other two. "What are you talkin' about, LeBeau? I'm Sergeant James Kinchloe. You sure you're all right, buddy?"

Carter suddenly felt like he was going to scream. This must be some kind of nightmare he was caught up in. Or perhaps the Krauts had him and were experimenting on him. That must be it. Whatever it was, Carter thought he'd play along for now.

"I have a bit of a headache and my shoulder hurts a bit. But I'm alive thanks to you and Newkirk."

"LeBeau! You're awake! Boy are we glad you're awake. The Colonel's sure been worried about you. How are you? Are you okay? I mean do your feel okay? I've been so worried. Are you sure you're okay?" said another slightly familiar voice. Carter was afraid to see who it was or wasn't. But nonetheless he did look. He saw a short man with a beret and matching scarf wrapped around his neck, hurrying toward them. He figured this must be LeBeau, or with this group, Carter.

"Oui," Carter replied. He suddenly made a face. Did he just speak French? "C'est un miracle." (1) he added.

LeBeau/Carter looked at him strangely. "What did you just say?" he appeared confused.

Carter closed his eyes momentarily. "I have no idea," he replied.

Just then the door to barracks two opened and a handsome man with black hair and a monocle, wearing a Luftwaffe outer coat and military cap, and holding a riding crop tucked under his arm strolled in followed by the obese figure of Sergeant Hans Schultz.. For the second time in an hour, Carter's jaw dropped. "Colonel Hogan? Why are you dressed like Kommandant Klink? And you're wearing a monocle."

Hogan/Klink looked down at Carter for a long moment. Then, he turned his expression to Klink/Hogan. "Glad to see you awake, Corporal LeBeau," he said. "I'd hate to think you wouldn't be able to cook dinner for General Burkhalter and myself day after tomorrow."

Carters eyes widened in shock. "Me? Cook? But Colonel, I don't know anything about cooking. I mean, I'm good at blowing things up and all. But cooking?"

Hogan/Klink stared at Carter, concerned. He thought Carter was talking about cooking. "Blow things up? Corporal, I want no funny business with this dinner. If things go well, I could get my General's stripes. If there's any problems whatsoever, everybody will get thirty days in the cooler. Is that understood?"

Carter, panicked, looked at Klink/Hogan. "Colonel…say something. Do something. I don't know anything about cooking. I really don't."

Klink/Hogan turned from Carter to Hogan/Klink. "Colonel Hogan, I don't know what kind of game, Corporal LeBeau is playing, but I promise you and your men will all spend thirty days in the cooler if anything goes wrong. Do you understand me?"

"Don't worry, Kommandant. LeBeau will cook a delicious French meal for you. He hit his head earlier and has been a little shaky since waking up. I promise you tomorrow he should be back to his old self. You have my word."

"See that he is, Hogan!" Klink/Hogan said with seriousness. "See that he is." He turned abruptly and stormed out of the barracks with Schultz close behind him. Klink/Hogan sighed and looked at Carter, concerned.

"LeBeau, what's wrong with you? You're acting mighty strange since hitting your head. You know you're suppose to cook a delicious meal for Klink, Burkhalter, and Burkhalter's guest who's bringing some documents that we need to photograph regarding a German offensive, and pass onto London."

"But…but…I swear to you, Colonel. I know nothing about cooking. I could burn water. You'd have better luck if I blew something up instead."

"LeBeau, you know making the explosives is Carter's job, not yours. You are our chef. Now I promised Klink you would do this. No meal, no documents. You have to do this."

Carter stared at Klink/Hogan in a panic. This was definitely the worse nightmare he'd ever had. At least he hoped it was only a nightmare.

* * *

((1) "C'est un miracle!" means "It's a miracle!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Carter was still sitting on his bunk shaking his head dejectedly. As he went over everything in his head, he was becoming more and more concerned that the Germans were experimenting on him with some kind of drug or drugs. Colonel Hogan in charge of Stalag 13 and going by the name of Colonel Klink; Colonel Klink an American Army Colonel going by the name of Robert Hogan; Kinch speaking with a Cockney accent and Klink's or Hogan's picket pocket, safe-cracker and resident card shark; Newkirk speaking perfect American English and second-in-command to Klink or Hogan; LeBeau an explosives king, and he himself was a French cook.

"I don't know how to cook a French meal," Carter/LeBeau muttered half to himself. "Heck, I don't even speak French." He sighed wearily. "Sacre Chats!" he said. Suddenly, his eyes widened in stunned surprise. "Sacre chats? Where did that come from?" Looking around, he didn't see anybody else near him except LeBeau/Carter, and he was writing a letter while sitting on his upper bunk. "LeBeau…I mean Carter, did you say anything?"

LeBeau/Carter looked up from his letter-writing. He tapped his pen on the sheet of paper in his lap. "Something wrong, LeBeau? Did you say something?"

"Yeah. I asked if you said anything?"

"No. I was busy writing a letter to my girl back home," Carter/LeBeau couldn't get over LeBeau/Carter's perfect English. Not a hint of French.

"What's your girl's name?"

"Mary Jane. Who else would I be writing to. Boy, you must've hit your head harder than we thought. Are you all right?"

"Oui, I mean yes," Carter/LeBeau was stunned; the French word issued forth from his own mouth. _What is happening here? _Carter/LeBeau told himself. _Mary Jane is my girl. How could LeBeau, I mean Carter, no, I mean LeBeau be writing to my girl?_

Just then, the door to Hogan's quarters opened and Klink/Hogan emerged with coffee cup in hand. He walked over to the pot belly stove and, grabbing the coffee pot, poured himself another cup of coffee. He took a drink noticing Carter/LeBeau and LeBeau/Carter looking at each other. He sensed something was going on. Removing his crush cap, he scratched the bald patch on his head and then replaced the crush cap. "What's going on here?" he asked. "And I don't want to hear nothing because I know something is."

"Colonel, I think LeBeau is hearing things," LeBeau/Carter remarked with a smirk. He went back to his letter.

Klink/Hogan studied Carter/LeBeau with concern etched on his face. "I'm becoming very concerned about you, LeBeau," he said. "Maybe you hit your head harder than we thought. I'm hoping after some sleep tonight you'll be better in the morning. Because if you can't cook for Klink, we don't get those documents. I suggest you turn in and get some sleep. After roll call in the morning, if you're still out of sync, I'll have Wilson check you over again."

"Oui, mon Colonel," Carter/LeBeau replied so naturally yet in the worse French anyone had heard, someone would have thought he was a French native. Still, he couldn't fathom how he could speak French so fluently. Maybe he did hit his head harder than he thought. Maybe the Colonel was right. Maybe after a good night's sleep he would feel refreshed in the morning and everything and everybody would be back to normal. He looked up at Klink/Hogan. "Perhaps you're right, Colonel," he said gently. "I'll probably feel better after I get a good night's sleep. I'd better say goodnight now, sir."

"Goodnight, Carter. LeBeau." Klink/Hogan turned and disappeared back into his quarters and closed the door.

Watching the Colonel close the door, Carter/LeBeau stretched out on his bunk and closed his eyes. He quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Morning came almost to quickly for Carter/LeBeau as he wearily sat up on his bunk. He began rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He shook his head attempting to clear the cobwebs. Opening them, he looked around and saw the others getting dressed and ready for roll call. Suddenly the barracks door opened and the obese form of Sergeant Hans Schultz appeared.

"Rooooooll Caaaaaallll! Everybody up for roll call! Raus! Let's go! Roll call! Everybody outside!"

_Thank God Schultz is normal, _Carter told himself. _That's a good sign. Maybe things are back to normal._

"Hi'ya, Schultz," Carter/LeBeau said. "Boy, is it good to see somebody who's finally who they're suppose to be. You wouldn't believe what I thought was happening around here yesterday."

Schultz stared at him with a look of concern. "LeBeau, you have been hanging around Carter too long," Schultz said with a chuckle. "You're beginning to talk as much as he does."

Carter/LeBeau was about to reply when he suddenly realized nothing had changed. "Oh le frere!" he muttered resting his forehead in his good hand with eyes closed. He shook his head. (1)

Just then Carter/LeBeau looked up when he heard a door open. He saw Klink/Hogan approaching him. The Colonel stood in front of him staring at him, concern on his face. "How do you feel this morning, LeBeau? Feel good enough to attend roll call?"

Wearily, Carter/LeBeau looked into the Colonel's eyes. "Yes, sir," he replied dejectedly. "I think I can make it."

"Good," Klink/Hogan said with a grin. He draped an arm around the fat guard's shoulders and escorted him towards the open door. "Don't worry, Schultz. You heard LeBeau. He'll be attending roll call this morning along with the rest of us."

"Please, Colonel Hogan," Schultz seemed to be begging the Colonel. "Corporal LeBeau will be able to cook dinner for Kommandant Klink and the General tomorrow night, won't he? Please say yes, Colonel Hogan."

"I guess so, Schultz."

"Colonel Hogaaaaan!"

"Don't worry, Schultz," Klink/Hogan replied with a grin. "LeBeau will cook a fabulous meal. Won't you, LeBeau?" Klink/Hogan gazed at Carter/LeBeau over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir. I mean oui, mon Colonel," Carter/LeBeau corrected himself. _The nightmare continues, _Carter/LeBeau told himself.

"See, Schultz? Everything's fine. Now, be a good little Kraut and wait for us outside," replied Klink/Hogan. "We'll be out in a few minutes."

As Klink/Hogan was closing the door of the barracks, Schultz glanced at Carter/LeBeau one last time and shook his head. The door closed in his face.

Klink/Hogan looked around at the men in the barracks and noticed they were all ready. "Okay fellas, let's smile and make nice for the Kommandant." Opening the door, he led the way outside with the others following his lead.

As the men exited the barracks they fell into formation slowly with Schultz patiently waiting. Once all the men were in the two lines, Schultz began to count each man. He had just finished counting when a familiar voice boomed through the compound.

"Schuuuuuuultz! Repoooooort!"

Schultz turned and saluted as Hogan/Klink got closer. The Kommandant saluted.

"Herr Kommandant, all prisoners present and accounted for."

"Very good, Schultz." The Kommandant adjusted his monocle as he marched straight up to Klink/Hogan who stood with his thumbs hooked in the side pockets of his jacket. "Colonel Hogan, is your man LeBeau ready to cook dinner tomorrow night for General Burkhalter and his guest?"

Klink/Hogan glanced back over his shoulder at Carter/LeBeau who gave his commanding officer a weak smile. Klink/Hogan then turned back to face the Kommandant. "Don't worry, Kommandant," he said. "LeBeau's already planning his menu for tomorrow night." He glanced over his shoulder at Carter/LeBeau again. "Aren't you, LeBeau?" Carter/LeBeau saw both men eying him. He smiled weakly.

"Yes, sir. I mean, oui, mon Colonel," he replied. He noticed Hogan/ Klink looking at him suspiciously.

"Colonel Hogan, that is without a doubt the worse French I have ever heard a Frenchman speak," Hogan/Klink remarked, concern etched on his face.

"He hit his head. Remember Kommandant? It affected his speech. He's been talking funny since. I'm sure it'll pass," Klink/Hogan replied with a smirk.

The Kommandant didn't seem appeased. "Fortunately he doesn't need to talk to be able to cook." He waved his finger in Klink/Hogan's face. "You just better make sure whatever he serves is delicious or both of you will be in the cooler until the war ends and beyond. Do I make myself clear, Hogan?"

"Perfectly, sir," Klink/Hogan replied with a lopsided grin. "And don't worry, sir. I'm sure Corporal LeBeau is already planning a wonderful meal for you and the General." He glanced again over his shoulder at the Corporal.

"Just to make sure there's no funny business, Hogan, you will join General Burkhalter, General Schlemmer and myself for dinner. Also, I need to see you in my office immediately after roll call on business."

"I'll be there, sir. You can count on me," Klink/Hogan replied sweetly.

"Very well, Hogan." The Kommandant looked at his Sergeant-of-the-Guard. He saluted. "Schultz, dismiss your prisoners!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied returning his Kommandant's salute. After watching the Kommandant turn and march back to his office, Schultz then turned to the prisoners. "Prisoners, diss-missed!"

As the prisoners dispersed, Klink/Hogan's team gathered around their leader.

"What do you suppose ole Klink wants, Gov'nor?" asked Kinch/Newkirk, worried.

"I smell trouble, Colonel," said LeBeau/Carter.

Klink/Hogan watched the Kommandant's receding back and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Want us to listen in, Colonel?" asked Newkirk/Kinch.

"Yeah. Listen in. It might be nothing or it might be something. Well…" Klink/Hogan sighed wearily. "I'd better see what the great hairy eagle wants." He headed in the direction of the Kommandantur. The others went back inside the barracks and into the Colonel's quarters. Kinch/Newkirk pulled out the coffee pot and plugged it in.

Hogan/Klink was removing his coat as he entered the outer office where his pretty blond secretary, Hilda, sat busily typing. He hung up the coat and military cap. She glanced up when the Kommandant entered and saw him wink at her with a charming smile on his face. She returned his smile and winked back.

"Fraulein Hilda, Colonel Hogan should be here any minute. Please show him into my office when he arrives." He opened the door leading to his inner office and paused in the doorway.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Hilda purred seductively. She enjoyed the Kommandant's flirting; it was the highlight of her days. Seeing the Kommandant staring at her from the doorway of his inner office, she gave him a little wave with her hand. Hogan/Klink waved back and blew her a kiss. He then closed the door of his inner office, and sat down behind his desk, running a hand over his thick black hair. He adjusted his monocle.

Hilda had resumed her typing when the outer door opened and Colonel Hogan looked in. Hilda glanced up at him and sighed wearily. Klink/Hogan entered, closed the door and approached the secretary's desk.

"Hi'ya, gorgeous," he said with a devilish smile on his face. "Miss me since yesterday?"

Hilda turned her attention to her typing. "No," she replied. She didn't like Colonel Hogan at all and resented his attentions and flirting. At least the Kommandant was handsome and charming with a head of thick black hair. But not so this insufferable POW with his balding head who thought he was God's gift to women everywhere.

Klink/Hogan walked up behind her and gripped her shoulders. Attempting to give her a kiss on the cheek, Hilda suddenly pulled away and got up, walking to the file cabinet. She opened the top drawer and pretended to be looking for something. Klink/Hogan sighed as he approached her at the file cabinet next to the Kommandant's door to his inner office. "What's the Kommandant got that I don't?" he asked, mildly curious.

"Hair," Hilda replied slamming the file cabinet drawer closed after pulling out a folder, and returning to her desk. Watching her, Klink/Hogan shrugged and with crush cap in hand, opened the door to the inner office closing it behind him. He noticed the Kommandant look up from behind his desk when the door opened.

"Hogan, it's about time you got here!" Hogan/Klink said with an annoyed expression. "What took you so long?"

"I got lost getting here," Klink/Hogan replied with a smirk. Tossing his crush cap on the spike of the pickelhaube on the corner of the Kommandant's desk, Klink/Hogan sat down in the chair facing the Kommandant's and crossed his legs, arms folded. "But I'm here now, so what's up?"

"Colonel Hogan, I want to know what happened to Corporal LeBeau and how he got injured in the first place?"

Klink/Hogan shrugged. "I told you. He hit his head."

"On what, Hogan?"

"I think he tripped over Carter's feet and fell, hitting his head on the floor. But don't worry, Kommandant. I'm sure LeBeau won't sue you."

Hogan/Klink's eyes widened as he raised his eyebrows. "Sue me? Why would LeBeau want to sue me? It was his clumsiness that led to his accident."

"Practice for when he gets out into the real world?" Klink/Hogan replied innocently. Leaning forward, he reached for and started to open the Kommandant's humidor when Hogan/Klink slammed it shut nearly catching Hogan/Klink's fingers. Just then the telephone rang. Groaning, the Kommandant picked it up.

"Colonel Klink speaking. Heil Hitler," he said annoyed and suddenly stiffened. "Jawohl, General Burkhalter. It's always a pleasure to speak with…yes sir, shut up and listen." As the Kommandant listened, Klink/Hogan watched his face while sneaking three cigars out of the humidor and slipping them in his bomber jacket's inside pocket.

"But Herr General, why are you coming today instead of tomorrow? I see. You and General Schlemmer have a meeting in Berchtesgaden tomorrow with the Fuhrer. Yes, sir, I understand. You'll be here in a few hours. Yes, sir. Well, Herr General, it's been very nice hearing from you. Heil Hitler." He hung up the phone and seemed to shrivel before his counterpart's eyes.

"Something wrong, sir?" asked Klink/Hogan innocently.

"Everything's wrong, Hogan. That was General Burkhalter. He and General Schlemmer are coming for dinner tonight instead of tomorrow night." He nervously looked at Klink/Hogan. "Hogan, how soon can LeBeau begin preparing the dinner?"

* * *

(1) "Oh le frere!" means "Oh brother!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Klink/Hogan walked down the steps of the Kommandantur, whistling, and headed in the direction of barracks two. He knew Burkhalter would be here in several hours with General Schlemmer and he had to get things moving now. Whatever shape LeBeau was in he would have to suck it up and start cooking. He entered the barracks.

He found the others waiting for him in the common room. Only Carter/LeBeau seemed visibly nervous.

"What are we gonna do now, Gov'nor?" asked Kinch/Newkirk, worried.

"Only thing we can do," Klink/Hogan replied with a sigh. "LeBeau, you're gonna have to start cooking this afternoon. Carter, you, Kinch and Newkirk are gonna serve as waiters at the dinner. Kinch, make sure you bring your camera and your bottle of sleeping pills. Newkirk, bring your collection of keys. Schlemmer will be using a briefcase probably chained to his wrist. We'll need to separate him from his briefcase. Remember, after you take the pictures of the documents get the originals back in Schlemmer's briefcase." He then looked at an extremely nervous Carter/LeBeau. "LeBeau, what's the problem?"

Carter/LeBeau smiled weakly. "Colonel, I told you before. I don't know anything about French cooking. Now, if you want me to blow up General Schlemmer I can do that for you."

Klink/Hogan sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. "Look, LeBeau, if I need something blown up I'll have Carter whip up something. All I need from you is a delicious meal. And remember, I'll be dining with them so try not to poison anybody."

"Yes, sir. I mean, oui, mon Colonel."

"Well, Gov'nor, ole Klink was right about one thing," replied Kinch/Newkirk."

"What's that, Newkirk?"

"That is the worst French I ever heard a Frenchman speak."

Carter stuck his hands in his pockets and frowned at Kinch/Newkirk. "Thanks a lot, pal," he muttered. "See how well you do trying to cook a French meal when you can't even cook an American one."

Kinch/Newkirk rolled his eyes in exasperation and shook his head. "Blimey, LeBeau. Sometimes I think you've gone bloody crackers."

The remainder of the day went smoothly. About three p.m. in the afternoon, Carter/LeBeau was assigned to the kitchen to start preparing dinner or a reasonable facsimile thereof. He had a large pot of boiling water on the stove and that was about it. He had no idea what he was doing.

_Heck, I work with explosives, not food, _Carter/LeBeau told himself. _I wonder if I could serve hot dogs? I can make that easy. _Carter/LeBeau scratched his chin, puzzled. _Do Germans like hot dogs?_

In the living room, LeBeau/Carter, Kinch/Newkirk and Newkirk/Kinch were dressed in white jackets and were pouring refills of wine for General Burkhalter, Kommandant Hogan/Klink and General Schlemmer. Colonel Klink/Hogan slowly sipped his drink as he wanted to keep a clear head. Also, besides being a guest, he was there to keep an eye on his men. And, he was also worried about Corporal LeBeau slaving away in the kitchen. The Frenchman hadn't been right since striking his head after their last mission. He just hoped he didn't screw things up. Taking a sip of his drink, he studied General Schlemmer. He appeared at ease when Burkhalter, the Kommandant, and Schlemmer approached.

"General Schlemmer, let me introduce Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior POW officer," Hogan/Klink said with a nervous smile. "Hogan, this is General Reinholt Schlemmer."

Schlemmer studied the Senior POW officer carefully. He had an intense dislike of prisoners-of-war. "Colonel Hogan," he said stiffly.

Klink/Hogan, sensing the General's dislike of him, smiled a devilish smile. "Hi'ya," he said with a smirk. Seeing the General glare at him, he grinned innocently.

"Hogaaaaaaan!" Hogan/Klink muttered shaking his fist at his counterpart. "You will show respect for General Schlemmer."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kommandant. You never said I had to show any respect. I thought you were only introducing us."

Schlemmer was about the same height as Hogan with a head of thick brown hair graying at the sides. He had with him the briefcase which was attached to his wrist with a chain. They would have to knock out Burkhalter, Klink and Schlemmer with sleeping pills before opening his briefcase, removing the documents, photographing them, and then returning the originals to the briefcase. Klink/Hogan looked at his watch. He guessed LeBeau should be coming out with the hors d'oeuvres soon; he hoped.

Hogan/Klink smiled nervously as the General stared at him, his face a shade of crimson. The Kommandant chuckled. "I'm sorry, General Schlemmer. You see, Colonel Hogan hasn't been well lately and…"

"Klink, I suggest you control these swine. Their lack of respect for a German officer only shows how little control you have over them!" Turning around, Schlemmer stormed away. Hogan/Klink glared at Klink/Hogan and shook his fist at him.

"I'll deal with you later," he said and walked away himself.

Klink/Hogan checked his watch again. _Where is LeBeau with those hors d'oeuvres? _he asked himself. He glanced at Kinch/Newkirk, Newkirk/Kinch and LeBeau/Carter. They all shrugged innocently at their commanding officer. Sighing, he guessed he'd better check on LeBeau just to make sure he was all right. Turning, he headed to the swinging door and pushed it open to enter the kitchen. As he pushed it in, he heard a crash followed by a yelp of pain. He quickly burst through the door to find Carter/LeBeau on the floor unconscious with a broken platter and what appeared to be hors d'oeuvres all over the floor. He knelt down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"LeBeau, are you all right!? LeBeau! Say something! LeBeau"

Carter/LeBeau could only groan as he put a hand to his head.

* * *

"Carter, are you all right? Carter! Say something! Carter?"

Groaning, Carter opened his eyes and saw Colonel Hogan sitting on the edge of the bed. "Oh, hi Colonel," Carter mumbled rubbing his head. He suddenly sat up on the bed and stared at Hogan. "Colonel! Is it really you?" Getting to his feet shakily, Carter grabbed Hogan by both arms and stared in his face. He then put one hand on each side of Hogan's face. "It looks like you, Colonel."

"Carter, is something wrong?" Hogan asked, worried.

Carter then removed Hogan's crush cap from his head and looked at the head of thick black hair. He put the crush cap back on the Colonel's head. "Oh boy, am I glad it's you, Colonel!"

"Carter, have you gone bloody crackers?" asked Newkirk.

The young Sergeant turned and grabbed Newkirk by both arms. "Newkirk, buddy! Is that really you?"

Newkirk disengaged himself from Carter's grasp. "Will you get your bleedin' hands off of me. Me thinks you've lost your bleedin' mind!"

"I think our Andrew's back to normal, Colonel," Kinch replied with a grin.

"Oui," LeBeau added rolling his eyes. "But was he ever normal to begin with is the question."

Carter smiled at the little Frenchman. "LeBeau, am I glad to see you! Boy, don't ever let me have to cook a French meal again."

The others exchanged puzzled looks. "**You** cook a French meal?" asked LeBeau with wide eyes. "You can't even boil water."

Hogan shook his head and began rubbing his forehead. "Carter, wait a minute. Sit down and tell us what's going on. And try and get to the point as soon-as-possible."

"Boy, what a dream! " Carter plopped down on the bed and touched the bandage on his head. He looked up at Hogan who had wrapped his arms around himself. "It was scary, Colonel. It really was. For a while I thought maybe the Germans were experimenting on me with drugs."

"Andrew, start at the beginning if you can," said Newkirk sitting on the edge of the table facing Carter.

"Well, you, me and Kinch went on the mission to blow up the bridge and I got shot in the shoulder by a Kraut patrol and then I fell and hit my head. When I woke up, I keep hearing Colonel Hogan calling my name. Only it wasn't Colonel Hogan." Carter looked up at his commander. "Sir, when I finally woke up, and boy this was really weird. You weren't you, Colonel. In fact, none of you were yourselves. Only Schultz was the same."

Kinch smirked. "That figures. How many people can pretend to be barrage balloons?"

"Carter, what are you yammerin' about?" asked Newkirk. "What do you mean none of us were ourselves?"

"Well, Colonel, you were the Kommandant of Stalag 13 and Colonel Klink was you. Kinch, you were Newkirk and a Corporal. And you spoke British. Pretty good actually. Newkirk, you were speaking perfect English and were a Sergeant. LeBeau was a Sergeant and worked with explosives. And me, well, I was a Corporal, spoke and cooked French and was called LeBeau." He looked around at the others who were staring at him in disbelief.

"You? Speaking French?" asked LeBeau, amused. "You have enough trouble speaking English."

"I spoke British?" asked Kinch.

"I was Kommandant of Stalag 13?" asked Hogan.

"Colonel, it had to happen eventually," began Newkirk shaking his head.

"What's that, Newkirk?" asked Hogan with an amused smirk.

"That blow to his head has finally made our Andrew go off the deep end."

"But that's not the worst part," said a wide-eyed Carter.

"Don't tell us there's more?" asked Hogan.

"Oh yeah, Colonel. You haven't heard the part about the mission we had."

"There was a mission?" asked Kinch in amazement.

"Oh yeah. See, we had to get some documents from the briefcase of this General named Schlemmer who was a friend of General Burkhalter. The Kommandant…I mean, you, sir, were holding a dinner for him. We were to get these documents, photograph them and get them to London. I was suppose to cook a delicious French meal, but had no idea what I was doing."

LeBeau chuckled. "When it comes to cooking I could have told you that, mon ami."

Hogan felt a headache starting. "Tell me, Carter. Did we get these documents?"

"Uh, I don't know, Colonel. See, I was getting ready to come out with some appetizers…"

"Hors d'oeuvres," LeBeau told him.

"Yeah, those things. Anyway, I was about to come into the room with 'em when you, sir, pushed open the door and knocked me down. I uh, hit my head on the floor."

Newkirk, Kinch and LeBeau burst out laughing. And try as he might, Hogan couldn't contain himself. Carter sat quietly looking around at his friends and commanding officer.

"So you're tellin' us after all that, we didn't get the ruddy documents?"

"I don't know." Carter suddenly felt a painful twinge in his shoulder. He winced and for the first time, noticed the bandage on his shoulder. "If it's okay with you guys, I think I'm gonna lay down and go back to sleep."

"I think that's a good idea, Carter," Hogan replied, concerned. "You should get all the rest you can."

"Oh I'm not tired, Colonel," Carter replied with a grin. "I just want to go back to sleep."

"I don't understand, Carter," Hogan said. "Why do you want to go back to sleep?"

"I want to get back to my dream and see what happens." Carter noticed the Colonel and the others looking at him, confused. "Oh yeah. See, I'm cooking a French dinner for Generals Schlemmer and Burkhalter, the Kommandant...I mean you, sir. I want to see how it comes out."


End file.
